


sunscreen on the lens

by doublejoint



Category: One Piece
Genre: Established Relationship, Other, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 08:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30036168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublejoint/pseuds/doublejoint
Summary: It’s too hot, Smoker wants to say, but Tashigi's hands and feet are radiating the cool of the ocean water.
Relationships: Smoker/Tashigi/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	sunscreen on the lens

There is sand between the pages of Smoker’s book already, though they’ve hardly been on the beach for ten minutes. It crunches as he adjusts his grip on the spine, switches the cigar in his mouth to the other side so the wind doesn’t blow the smoke between his eyeline and the page. His sunglasses slip down on his nose again, and he leans back on his hand, compressing the sand below the beach blanket into a valley. There’s probably a sound to it, but it’s lost to the screeching of a gull overhead and a Tashigi shifting next to him. 

She’s lying with her eyes closed, face turned to the sun, her shirt still halfway-on over her bathing suit but open, with the sleeves bunched around her upper arms almost like a shawl. 

“You’ll get weird tan lines,” Smoker says.

The sand grinds between the pages again as he turns the page. Tashigi pushes herself up into a half-sitting position; her glasses, perched on her head, slip backwards. She lets the shirt off, first one arm, then another; there’s not enough wind to carry it away before she lies back on top of it.

Sweat drips down under Smoker’s chin, down his neck, the movement impossible to ignore. He wipes at it with his shoulder, not that it really helps much. He flips the page backward; everything he’d just read has slipped out of his brain the way it came in. Lying under the sun in the dead heat of summer on a summer island is no good, and even if he’s explicitly got permission to slack off for a little while, actually letting go is the difficult part. It’s hard to turn himself off when there’s nothing to hold his attention and dig in like seastone claws; there is just the constant wash of the waves, just Tashigi trying to sleep beside him. Maybe he should try and sleep too. But--Smoker sighs. 

“He’ll get here,” Tashigi says.

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

She reaches out, blindly with her eyes closed, and pats his thigh; for a moment he thinks he should keep her fingers there but both of his hands are occupied--she draws her hand back and he drops the book into his lap; it bounces off onto the blanket with a muffled thud as he catches her hand in his. She opens her eyes. It’s too hot for this, probably. There is sweat in the valleys between her fingers, on her palms, wicked away by the same sunscreen that’s left white streaks on her black bathing suit. It’s a little too small for her, pressing down on her shoulders, stretched across her breasts even when she lies down--how long has she had it? Not long. The sweat crawls on Smoker’s skin, like an unexpected splash of water from over the side of a ship, only worse--like mop water, grimy and the opposite of refreshing. Tashigi bites her lip; there is more sweat underneath, clinging to her face. Her hand is stuck to Smoker’s. 

The sand shifts behind them; in the periphery of Smoker’s vision, the part not covered by the edge of his sunglasses, he catches movement; he turns as best he can given his position. It is Law; Smoker feels his face relax a little. Tashigi pulls her glasses down over her face in time for Law to loom above them and drop his bag onto the edge of the blanket. He carries his sword in his other hand, shifts it about as if to stop it from sealing to his fingers.

“Sorry I’m late. I was held up.”

“You didn’t—” Tashigi starts, and it’s hard to tell by the expression on Law’s face.

Smoker sighs. That’s the reason they’d come here at the peak of the heat, the time when the tourists are all on other islands and the locals are on vacation, and there’s the least chance of confrontation, as non-anonymous as they might be. 

“Don’t tease, Law.”

“You’re the ones extrapolating,” says Law. “But no, I didn’t.”

Tashigi glares at him. 

“The water’s so shallow everywhere. It’s difficult to get anywhere near enough in the submarine.”

Smoker nods. They’d had to row their dinghy pretty far from the ship to get the rest of the way, after all. And here on the beach, the water stretches out in front of them almost flat, the waves sliding like layers of ice in a frozen drink over each other. The sound of them is close enough to waves that roll like cigars and crash, sending foam spraying like shards of glass. He could get a pretty long way out before the ocean starts getting to him, probably. 

Tashigi’s hand makes a smacking sound as she separates it from Smoker’s, the skin not wanting to let go. Her hair is up, away from her neck, but that hasn’t stopped the sweat from coming down it as if she’s being rained on. Law hands her his bottle of sunscreen, and Smoker picks up his book, shaking off the sand. What page had he been on?

Law sits between Tashigi’s legs as she rubs the sunscreen on his back, his hand resting on her knee. She spreads her hands outward, as if kneading dough, and the sunscreen looks as if it’s drawing white wings over Law’s back, obscuring his tattoo, like the birds that run along the shore and dart out of the way of the tide. Tashigi pushes her glasses up with the heel of her hand, making an annoyed sound when she takes her hand away and there’s sunscreen left on the lens. 

* * *

Smoker isn’t really trying to sleep, but he does; he wakes up to the sound of his book falling off his chest and again onto the blanket. Tashigi is gone, but Law is lying asleep, one hand on his sword, where she’d been the last he’d look. His chest rises and falls steadily; sweat trickles down but he’s either so deep in sleep he’s unaware or not bothered enough by it to move. His swimsuit rides low below his hipbones. Smoker pushes himself back up into a sitting position. He can see Tashigi in the water, far out in the distance but only knee-deep, hands at her sides, staring into the horizon.

She turns around, as if sensing Smoker looking at her, and he raises his hand in a greeting. She raises hers back and begins to walk back in; he hadn’t meant to call her back, really, but--he won’t stop her. She stumbles up the shoreline, her legs still used to the resistance of water, and flops down on the blanket in the small space between Smoker and Law. It’s too hot, Smoker wants to say, but her hands and feet are radiating the cool of the ocean water. Maybe for a little. Maybe they should have some water.

“How’s the water?”

“Good. It’s really shallow and clear.” 

Law rolls over onto his side, blinking awake. His mouth is millimeters from Tashigi’s shoulder, and if she were taller he’d be kicking her feet. Smoker leans closer to both of them. 

“Nice nap?”

“Yeah,” says Law. 

His voice is dry; he yawns into Tashigi’s shoulder, sweat dripping down his forehead onto her skin. His swimsuit slips lower on his hips; Tashigi turns to look, the movement of the fabric having somehow caught her eye. And she takes in the sight of him. Smoker’s mouth is dry inside; his lips are rimmed in sweat; the side of Tashigi’s wet foot comes to rest against his ankle. Law adjusts one of his earrings, looking right at Smoker as if piercing him with the sun. Laws fingers are hot as metal handlebars in the sun on the underside of Smoker’s chin. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! HBD Smoker <3


End file.
